


Promise

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Happy Ending, M/M, Sussex retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: Promises are made and kept.





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/gifts).



> Sherlock never wants to disappoint his John.

John had kept his promise, staying with Sherlock until the good doctor left this world with dignity and grace in his sleep at the age of ninety-five. They had gone to bed that last night holding hands after a warm cuppa and some sinfully rich biscuits and when Sherlock awoke the next morning he found himself alone for the first time in nearly sixty years.

Still, John was never really gone. Sherlock could always feel his presence in their Sussex cottage, sometimes catching the scent of him on the air or glimpsing a flash of silver hair out of the corner of his eye. Their spiritual closeness remained even though they were separated in the physical realm. The feeling that John was just waiting in the next room was always strong especially today.

He sighed heavily as he forced himself to eat the toast with honey on his plate. Most days it sat in his stomach like a stone, but needs must. Long ago he had made a promise of his own to John that he would "soldier on" should the unthinkable happen and Sherlock was without his Conductor of Light. And he had been true to his word having matched John's age January last. He was so very tired but it wouldn't do to disappoint his John and a promise was a promise.

Sherlock despised the walker but it allowed him to maintain his independence and continue to tend his beloved hives. Each day his trek would lead him across the garden past the beds of flowers that they had planted to attract the honeybees that brought Sherlock so much joy. Along the path was the double heart headstone engraved with both their names. On the marble slab beneath it was carved:

"All hearts are broken. All lives end. Caring is not an advantage. Until it is."

It had been a rather unusual "gift" from Mycroft years ago. A twin resided in London above the final resting place of Mycroft and Greg. Only now did Sherlock fully appreciate what a touching and heartfelt gesture this had been. 

He lowered himself stiffly onto the adjoining bench, a copy of their favourite from Regent's Park. The sun was warm, the bees were humming and it wouldn't delay him too long to catch his breath for a few minutes.

🍯🐝 🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝

Something was touching him. Blast, one of the bees must be crawling on his face. "Remain calm Holmes, don't swat at it- that will not end well.", he thought. But it was strange that the touch was more of a pressure than a tickle- soft, tender like a kiss.  
Then he heard something, or thought he did.

"Wake up love. Time to go home."

Sherlock suddenly realized that his vision which had dimmed with age was razor sharp and his gnarled joints no longer ached. He felt as if he could leap across all the rooftops in London. Then he sobered. It must be a pleasant but unreal dream, because there before him stood John- young, smiling and holding out a strong steady hand.

"Go away, you're interrupting my nap. YOU were always the one harping on sleeping and eating and all that nonsense. Besides which, you're a figment of my imagination. My toast digesting in some disgusting way."

"Well there's a romantic welcome back, and I am most certainly NOT a glob of undigested toast. I AM dead, that's true, but then so are you. Come on, sleepyhead. I've waited quite some time for this."

"Don't be ridiculous John! I think I would KNOW if I were dead. As usual you're being an idiot."

"Only you would argue with a dead man, berk, but then that's why I have always loved you sugarnut."

Sherlock's head snapped up at the endearment which John had cobbled together ages ago as some convoluted mixture of sugarpie and gingernut when Sherlock had forbidden the use of both. Why had he thought of that? Why would a hallucination...

"Don't believe me? Take a look over there. Not your finest hour or best side for that matter.", John smirked.

Glancing towards the bench...Why was he looking at the bench? He was on the bench wasn't he?...he was appalled to see he had slipped to the ground on hands and knees with his arse up in the air.

Now John was snorting. " Rather fitting innit? Sort of puts me in mind of the night you were clueing for looks."

"John this is terrible!!"

"Sweetheart, death is natural, don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid. This is unacceptable Watson. I cannot, will not be found by the delivery boy or the postman in that position. Do something!!!!"

"Do what exactly, dear? Dead too you know."

"But John you could always fix things, fix ME! Surely this little conundrum isn't beyond your brilliance."

John looked around as if expecting lightning to strike and whispered, "Alright, but not a word of this beyond this garden. The powers that be take a rather dim view of interference in these matters."

"Yes, yes, just get on with it."

The shorter man grinned, took a deep gulp of air and blew. A swirling gust of wind rose from the ground and Sherlock's lifeless body tipped onto its side and now lay in the dust like a sleeping infant.

"John! Could you have been more indelicate?! How is that better?!!"

"Didn't know I was going for style points, your majesty. Want me to put you back as you were?"

"Don't you dare. This is intolerable enough as it is. And speaking of which, since I AM dead, it begs the question what took you so long getting here to, ah, collect me?"

John looked both wistful and smitten. "Glad to see you again too husband. As for taking an extra, what...nanosecond?...I knew you would throw a strop about the hives and their residents. I went to tell the Queen and all her subjects that their keeper had died."

"You told the bees?"

"Course I did, Lock. I always knew how important that is to you. Couldn't trust anyone else to do it right if someone even did it at all. Now they'll be content to let young Ian come and care for them."

"How do you know about that? I only made those arrangements after you...left."

"That's the thing, I never did completely. All the smells and catching sight of me were real, I was there with you as I said I would be."

Sherlock swallowed a large lump in his throat. "Thank you John. I've...I've..."

"Yeah, I missed you too. Now that we've cleared that up, ready to go?"

"Go where John? You said it was time to go home. Where is home in this new...whatever this is?"

"Wherever we want it to be. Since I've had five years to look at real estate as it were, and by the way I'm bloody proud of how you carried on living and didn't give up the fight, I've found us an alternate universe or dimension if you like where we can rent a nice flat in midtown London. It's on Baker Street, 221B as I recall, and I'm told the landlady Mrs.Hudson will simply love having us there. Oh and as an added plus, this go around you and Mycroft will actually like one another."

"That remains to be seen, although not unwelcome. Will there be cases, experiments and adventures?"

"All of those and tea, takeaway, biscuits, honey and lots and LOTS of sex."

"Sex? I'm not entirely convinced as yet, John. Perhaps if you kissed me."

The kiss was even better than the first all those decades ago, and Sherlock melted in John's arms. As they broke apart, John took his hand and lead them down the path towards the hives which somehow seemed to be fading away in a mist only to be replaced with the familiar skyline of London.

As they felt their feet transition from earth to pavement John sighed happily, "Best get a move on. I expect Hudders has brewed a fresh pot of tea and baked some scones."

"Scones as well? And lots and lots of sex, you said. Promise?"

The familiar black door and brass knocker came into view as John hugged Sherlock tightly to his side. "Promise."

🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝🍯🐝

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes the angst just won't let you alone. Therefore, face it and make a happy ending.
> 
> If you haven't checked out ChrisCalledMeSweetie's latest, "Hallelujah", go there right now please. It is worth the trip. Hallelujah AMEN!!
> 
> Have a great weekend and I'm always glad for kudos and comments from all my readers. MY sugarnuts.😘


End file.
